


Test of Desire

by LokisScribe



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Begging, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Light Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokisScribe/pseuds/LokisScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pure, unadulterated smut, just for the fun of it. Absolutely no plot to speak of, although this may end up part of a longer work. Set in an ambiguous time during The Avengers. Loki tests his control, tests his desire, and likes what he finds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Test of Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at lokis-scribe.tumblr.com.

The pulse from the sceptre pinned her to the wall. She fought against it, to move, to escape, to gain some semblance of control, but it was to no avail. He placed the sceptre carefully on the table, and then stalked closer, step… by step… by step… his eyes never leaving hers, his gaze burning, his face unreadable. When he finally stood before her, close enough that she could feel his warm breath ghosting across her face, he reached up and took her chin gently - breathtakingly, surprisingly gently - and tilted it upward so she had no choice but to meet his gaze, nowhere to look but his eyes. 

And then he kissed her.

It was soft at first. An experiment. A test of sorts, not only for her but for him. Testing his control, his power, but more, testing his desire. Apparently he liked what he discovered, because he pressed his advantage. His lips became more insistent, pressing against hers with urgent force, guiding her own to part beneath his, allowing his tongue full access to her mouth. There was no fight for dominance, no battling of tongues - he simply ravished her.

As for her, well, despite what she was certain were rational objections screaming in the back of her mind, she found herself a more than willing victim of said ravishment. The touch of his lips and his tongue sent a shiver of fire through her veins. Were it not for the invisible but entirely immovable force still holding her to the wall, she was certain she would have done something terribly embarrassing by now - like, say, collapse girlishly against him. Instead, she kissed him back, and felt his surprise, and then subsequent delight at her response.

Had she been able to move, she would have jerked in surprise when she felt his free hand slide its way over her hip and up her side. The hand holding her chin released it, and instead buried itself in her hair, tilting her head to the side so he could deepen the kiss further. They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity - his mouth devouring hers, his hand ghosting over her side in a way that should have tickled but instead made her nerve endings stand on end in a delicious, addictive way. 

Then all at once, he stepped back, breaking all contact with her. Before she could react, he had taken up the sceptre once more and waved it purposefully. The force holding her to the wall abruptly disappeared and she stumbled forward a few steps - into his waiting arms. The sceptre clattered to the floor, but he didn't seem to notice or care. His hand re-entangled itself in her hair, and used it to tug her head to the side again. This time, his mouth descended on the sensitive skin along her jawline, laving hot, open-mouthed kisses up that gentle curve until he could capture the lobe of her ear in his teeth, biting just hard enough that she hissed. Just hard enough that her hips unconsciously rocked forward into his.

He growled deep in his throat in response and shoved her back against the wall, mouth never losing contact with her skin, the strength of his lean body just as effective at holding her in place as the power of the sceptre had been. Her hands scrabbled at the wall for a moment, searching for some tactile sensation that wasn't him - something to ground herself back into reality. But then his teeth sunk into the soft skin of her shoulder - not hard enough to break skin, just to leave his mark - and she was lost in him again. Her hands abandoned the wall in favour of his hair, his face, his arms, the smooth curves of his armour, the cool softness of his cloak - anything that she could reach. She just needed to touch, and he was eager to reciprocate. 

His cool fingers slid under the hem of her shirt and tugged upwards. Instinctually she lifted her arms and let him draw the shirt up over her head and off. He tossed it carelessly behind him somewhere and immediately snaked his arms behind her so his hands could unfasten her bra clasp with easy dexterity. Her bra joined her shirt on the floor, and for the briefest of moments she felt a swell of misplaced modesty, and her hands snuck up to vainly attempt to cover her generous breasts. 

That he did not approve of, not in the least. With his larger hands, he easily captured both of her wrists in one, pinning it above her head and leaving her bare before him. And then he paused, some wicked thought turning up the corner of his mouth, and simply looked at her. It was an almost tangible gaze. She swore she could feel the heat of it, from her neck to her waist, as his eyes roamed every last abundant curve. She fought to hold still under his gaze as the heat built, pooling between her legs until she couldn't help but squirm. That earned her a delighted smile and soft, teasing laugh, as he leaned his head in to nuzzle the valley of her cleavage. He planted feather-light kisses across the tops of her breasts, then dragged his across them, then lower to circle her nipple. Again, around each one once, but never quite touching the sensitive little nubs. And again, and again, till she was gasping and whimpering and begging with what were almost-but-not-quite words - his name, curses, and "Please!" all jumbled together in lust. Only then did he meet her desperate gaze with a wicked grin, and swiftly capture one nipple fully in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and teeth and lips. He released her wrists and his hand slid down to knead and caress her other breast, while her newly freed hands buried themselves in his silky black hair. 

He released her nipple, only to attack the other with equal ferocity, sharing his attention equally between the two. Her knees began to buckle under her and his strong arms carefully guided her to the elegant wood-panelled floor. Now he could loom over her, looking down at her flushed face with its kiss-bruised lips and lust-filled eyes with that terrible, wicked smirk she was fast coming to both hate and love. It always seemed to signal some new delicious torment. And sure enough, no sooner had the smirk faded then he was sitting back on his heels and releasing the clasps on his armour, letting it fall away piece by piece. His shirt joined hers in the growing pile of clothes across the room, and she was promptly driven to distraction by the sight of acres of lithe muscle and pale, flawless skin, shifting like velvet over stone as he bent over her again. His mouth returned to her breasts, but only for a moment - a brief farewell before moving lower. He trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of her stomach to the waistband of her jeans, which he removed far faster than she thought possible - along with her black lace panties, leaving her fully exposed to his touch. 

And touch he did, but not where she most craved. He continued down her stomach, but veered off to nuzzle his way down one leg to plant a single kiss on the arch of her foot. She giggled and tried to twitch her foot away from him, but he only grinned and tightened his grip on her ankle, repeating the kiss just to watch her twitch. He did the same to her other foot, then slid back up her leg until he was kneeling between her thighs, face mere inches from where she wanted - no, needed - him to touch. 

Slowly, oh-so-slowly, he dragged his tongue up her inner thigh, ending with a single flick over her twitching clit that made her buck her hips, desperately seeking more contact. But he only held her down and continued to tease. His tongue slid up the length of her cunt once, then again, and again, each time ending with that single flick of her clit. It was slow, torturous, and nowhere near enough, and she told him that - eloquently, with much cursing. Finally - finally! - he brought one hand down and slid one of those long, graceful fingers into her, hooking it just slightly so it brushed the spot that made her squirm and moan. He added a second finger and began to fuck her with them - slowly at first, then faster. His tongue settled on her clit, flickering over it in time with the movement of his fingers. She was lost to the sensation now, lips parted in an almost constant moan, eyes fluttering, one hand thrown out to the side, the other clutching desperately at his hair in hopes that she could keep him from stopping. Closer and closer he drove her, his fingers and tongue relentless, until she was teetering on the brink of what she knew would be the best orgasm of her life.

And then he stopped. Completely. Sat back and licked his fingers with a satisfied smirk as she bucked and writhed and whined. She had been so close. How could he stop like that? She was almost desperate enough to risk sliding a hand down between her legs to finish the job, but she was distracted at least for the moment by watching him undo the laces on his pants and tug them off. His freed erection, hard and eager, more than made up for in length what it lacked in girth. It fit him, all his long, lanky body, and the sight was enough to make her mouth water. But she was denied that particular treat for the moment, as he knelt between her legs again, one hand slipping under one of her knees and pulling it up next to him for a better angle. With one final smirk, he sheathed himself fully in her in one smooth stroke that left her gasping for air and convulsing with need. He was still for a long moment, until she had calmed herself somewhat, and then he began to move. Slow at first, as he had done everything else, but building inexorably. His hips snapped forward harder and harder, driving into the warmth of her cunt, driving her wild. Somehow amidst the movement his lips found hers again as he leaned forwards over her, claiming her mouth as he claimed her cunt - his, always his now, as if there would ever be any doubt. 

Too soon and yet not soon enough she felt his movement grow erratic as he grew close to his own peak. He slid a hand between their bodies and began to circle her clit with one long finger, bringing her swiftly back to the edge and holding her there, moment after long moment, until finally with one sharp thrust he drove them both over the edge and she screamed her climax out for the world to hear.


End file.
